Puppy Child

For our weekend in Coeur D’Alene we decided we’d sleep in the van. (“The van?” you ask, just wait, more on the van next week. For now, just picture a FedEx van.)

The van’s just an empty shell with no additional ventilation or heat. It’s not exactly the most comfortable place in the world but an old mattress, some sleeping bags, and blankets and it becomes do-able.

Friday night, mean parents that we are, we made Sprocket sleep off the mattress. He’s not allowed to be on the bed EVER and we don’t make many exceptions for that dog. (I figure that’s why he’s a good boy. He knows the rules because they don’t change.) Saturday, however, after making him hang out in the cold van all day we caved and let him on the bed.

He started out on my feet.

And then he curled between our knees.

Then, he buried his nose under the blankets at our shoulders for full body contact.

In the morning, we woke up and his head was on Forrest’s pillow. The puppy child had found his spot.

I so wish I had a picture of this. We were as bundled up as we could be against the cold (hats, gloves, sleeping bag hoods cinched). And there was Sprocket, cozy as he could be.